


The Hunt

by darkness_prince_dan



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Phan AU, Phanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 23:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4499130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkness_prince_dan/pseuds/darkness_prince_dan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running through the woods for your life is not Dan’s idea of a nice date. How did he get in this mess in the first place? Phil, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hunt

It’s one of those chilly summer nights when the sky is clear and the full moon watches over the world in boredom. The nature is resting. Darkness shrouds the woods, all is mysterious and ghostly. The faint glow of the moon cannot pierce through the thickness of the trees and shrubs of the woods, only the flickering luminescence of a flashlight can be seen moving frantically here and there. A man is running through the forest with only a torch keeping him company. It illuminates his path and turns the mist hovering above the ground into ghastly silhouettes of supernatural beings. His legs are about to give up on him and his lungs seem to be being carved with rusty knifes. As he slowly gets used to the fear, the level of adrenalin normalises and the numbing effect of it wears off too.

Struggling to catch breath, he stops to lean on a tree. There’s a noise to his left. He kills the torch as fast as he can and puts a hand over his mouth to muffle his breathing. However, there’s not much he can do about the thundering of his heart. Hopefully, he’s the only one to whom it sounds deafening. The scent of dirt fills his nostrils as he slides down the trunk ever so slowly; his hands are unsurprisingly dirty considering all the times he’s already fallen. He’s quite sure that his clothes don’t look any better but he doesn’t have time to worry about that now.

A few minutes pass in silence and no one jumps out at him so he gets back up, which proves to be rather a struggle, and starts running again. This time he doesn’t make much progress on the distance since he was too preoccupied with turning the torch back on and didn’t notice a root covered by the thin veil of the mist. He trips and falls for the, most likely, fourth time in the hour he’s been here. Landing face first on the ground, he inhales some dirt and coughs.  _Fuck it_ , he thinks as his muscles protest when he tries to stand up. He’ll just lie here and let them find him.

With shaking fingers he strokes the moss already adorning miniscule crystals of frost. Dan closes his eyes and rests his forehead on the ground. Concentrating on the cold beneath his body, he relaxes. But he can’t continue on like this, he’s got to find Phil. They got separated ten minutes ago and for that time the only thought on Dan’s mind was about him. It’s no secret Phil’s not the stealthiest guy and if they catch him, it’ll all be over. Dan disregards that idea as fast as it comes. Phil will be alright, they both will. He just has to keep moving. Stirring up the lowly hovering mist, he stands up groaning in pain.

He has made good headway with the torch once again illuminating the path when he hears it. Barking. They’ve got fucking dogs. Dan so didn’t sign up for that. The hunters will have no problem tracking them now.

“Shit,” he whispers to himself.

He’s hiding behind a boulder and taking a breather for a few minutes but if they’ve got dogs then he has to get up and get the fuck out of this forest faster than planned. There’s a problem though, of course. Dan’s not exactly sure he’s been heading in the right direction; as far as he knows the main road is north from where they started but how the fuck do you find north without a freaking compass? Huffing, he runs a hand through his hair.

“Right,” he murmurs.

Sitting here won’t change anything. The barking sounded far off; though, he doesn’t know how far sound carries in the woods. But it came from behind him so he starts jogging forward, in the same direction as before.

There’s not much to see in the nearly tangible darkness. There’s plenty to hear, though. The closest sounds are the most prominent: his laboured breathing, his rapidly beating heart. The far off noises are not as distinguishable: some bird caws, an unknown animal speeds past rustling the bushes, shouts of his hunters seem as if being said in another language.

All this focus Dan has on the surroundings aids him in not tumbling down a hill as he manages to stop last minute. It’s not that steep, really, but he’d rather avoid eating dirt for the fifth or sixth time. However, now he’s in a bit of a pickle. Should he try and climb down or maybe change direction? Surely, this can’t lead back to the road.

As he’s contemplating possible escape routes whilst leaning on a tree, a hand suddenly covers his mouth and another one wraps around his waist. Dan doesn’t have much time to react or panic when he’s thrown over the ledge of the hill and his attacker knocks the wind out of Dan’s lungs by crashing on him full force. The brunet’s about to protest when he sees the familiar blue eyes briefly illuminated by the light of a torch which he kills quickly. No words are exchanged since Dan finally hears what all this fuss is about.

They’re above them. A dog is sniffing nearby, twigs crunch under its master’s boots.

“Found anything?” A shout comes from further away accompanied by a click.  _A gun?_  Dan wonders idly.

“Badass is still looking,” the reply sounds closer than Dan would want.  _Who calls their dog ‘Badass’?_  The thought flits through his mind and he has to stop himself from snorting derisively.

The dog inches nearer; small particles of dirt crumble off the ledge and roll right past Dan. It’s still trying to catch the scent, _their_  scent. Dan closes his eyes and prays to anyone that’s listening for the hunters to go away. After excruciatingly long seventeen seconds, the dog backs off and so does its master.

Phil waits an extra two minutes and only then removes himself from Dan. They’re both lying on their backs finally able to breathe normally. The sky is invisible. The canopy of trees is too thick to see any glimmer of a star or the moon. Utter darkness envelops them, encouraging to think only about negative outcomes.

“Fucking hell,” Phil sighs sitting up.

Then there’s light. Phil turns his torch back on but covers it slightly so the shine wouldn’t be seen. Looking him over, Dan sits up too. The other man is covered in mud and his eyes are wider than Dan’s ever seen, he’s nearly shaking with the overdose of adrenalin.

“Did you roll around on the ground?” Dan whisper shouts, a bit angry to have been tackled like that before; he’s too afraid to talk louder right now.

“Kind of,” Phil answers as quietly. “Had to cover up my scent. They got really close.”

“Where the fuck did they get dogs?” The brunet asks sounding a bit too frantic.

“How should I know?” Phil sounds as panicky as Dan. “I’m just glad one of them didn’t bite my leg off.”

“This is fucked up, Phil,” Dan comments huffing in annoyance and falling back onto the ground to stare at the void above. “ _It’ll be fun, Dan_ ,” he mocks Phil’s words from earlier on in the night before they got to this forsaken forest. “ _We haven’t done this before, Dan_. You know what? I’m not having fun,” he adds all irked.

“Yeah, me neither,” Phil bites his lip. “But how could I know it would turn out like this? How was I supposed to know we’ll be hunted with freaking dogs?”

“I’ll grant you that,” Dan allows grudgingly. Then he glances at his boyfriend who looks miserable and apologetic. Of course, the brunet can’t stay mad for long when he’s getting the cutest pout, and it’s not entirely Phil’s fault anyway. “I’m glad you’re not dead,” he murmurs taking Phil’s hand.

“I’m glad I’m not dead too,” the other responds smirking.

“Oi,” Dan slaps Phil’s thigh. “I’m being emotionally vulnerable right now and I expect the same from you.”

The black haired man just rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss his boyfriend sweetly on the lips. It tastes of dirt and grass but they don’t really care. Before pulling completely away, Phil pecks both Dan’s cheeks and his forehead.

“I love you,” he whispers sincerely staring into Dan’s eyes. “I just want you to know this in case something happens.”

“Stop it,” Dan says sternly seeing Phil getting tear eyed. “We’re not dying here, Phil. You’re being too dramatic. Get up,” he orders doing as much himself. “We’re going the hell out of these woods.”

For a while they discuss where the north is. Dan wins the argument and so they slide down the slope and continue on carefully. Having two sets of ears helps extremely and Dan can calm down a bit. They decide on jogging for some time and then walking for a bit so as not to tire themselves too much. Phil’s holding Dan’s hand tight; he said it’s because he doesn’t want them to get separated again but Dan figures the comfort factors in quite strongly.

One of the flashlights gives up on them after a half hour, the other chooses to blink rather often but it’s better than nothing. It’s silent. Too silent for Dan’s comfort. The break from the chase brings a sense of false safety, it lulls you into thinking that maybe it’s all over now and you’ll be back home soon. Dan tries to shake off those thoughts and concentrate. It’s easier said than done; he’s too sleep deprived and exhausted to focus on anything other than putting one foot in front of the other. That doesn’t last for long, though. Their path gets cut off by a dark, deep, bubbling river. Its black waters lick over massive boulders, polishing them and making them shine once they catch the beam of the torch.

“Fucking brilliant,” Dan huffs sitting down, not really caring about being caught anymore.

“That’s not right,” Phil furrows his brows. “How is there a river here?”

“We’ve been heading in the wrong direction all this time, that’s how,” the brunet answers bitterly. “We probably circled around or something and now we’re lost. Not that we weren’t lost before but you know what I mean,” he rambles on while Phil gets a map out of his jeans pocket and lays it on a rock studying it. “You had this all along?!” Dan raises his voice finally noticing what Phil’s looking at.

“Yeah,” the other murmurs distractedly. “It wouldn’t have helped earlier,” he comments slowly, too focused on the map. “We didn’t know where we were, there were no landmarks. But this,” he waves to the river, “now that’s a landmark.”

Dan sits next to his boyfriend and puts his head on the other’s shoulder. The piece of paper is all murky and some of it isn’t even readable. It all blurs in front of Dan’s eyes but Phil’s tracing the lines with his finger trying to figure out where they came from and where they have to go.

“Here,” he points to a spot near a blue line. “We’re most likely here and we need to get here,” Phil hovers his finger over the map to a dot two centimetres to the left of the marked river. “We’ve been going east all this time. If we follow the river, we should get there.”

“If you say so,” Dan says uncertainly. Phil gets lost in malls so Dan doubts his ability to navigate a map.

“You don’t trust me?” Phil asks indignantly.

“This was your idea, Phil,” the brunet rolls his eyes lifting his had from his boyfriend’s shoulder. “I’m all for thrill seeking, hell, I even jumped out of a plane with you, but this is way too much for me.”

“Dan –” Phil’s about to get on a rant by the looks of it but is interrupted by a loud noise and a shrill ‘help!’.

Their eyes go wide and both men scramble to hide behind the boulder only inches away from the roaring river. The sound of a gun being fired resonates in the stillness a couple more times. A bird screeches, footsteps thud far away, there’s a scream of pain and a shout of a command. Then all is quiet.

“Oh my god,” Dan whispers, shaking from the rush of fear. “Oh my fucking god, Phil. They have guns! They fucking shot someone!”

“They didn’t shoot anyone,” Phil argues hotly, though, he’s as distressed as Dan. “Maybe it was just an animal, maybe actual hunters are hunting game, you don’t know,” his words slur together because of how fast he’s talking when he’s scared.

“I  _do_  know. Animals don’t call out for help,” the brunet disagrees heatedly. “And if I get murdered here, I’m suing you for dragging me into the fucking woods in the first place.”

“You can’t sue me if you’re dead, Dan,” Phil rolls his eyes.

“Then I’ll haunt you,” he snaps back.

“Your soul will be trapped in the boundaries of this forest,” the other reasons. “You won’t be able to follow be back home.”

“Alright, the banter is not helping,” Dan waves his hands. “We need to get to the road.”

Phil nods his agreement and they both stand up looking over the bolder. However, neither of them moves. There’s a figure emerging from the tree line. At first it’s just a shapeless silhouette but after it reaches the moon lit river bank it becomes obvious it’s a person. They walk slowly, clutching their side, their clothes are torn and seemingly bloody. A groan escapes past their lips as they stagger through the fog.

“A zombie?!” Phil near shouts. Dan stares at him in disbelief then slaps him over the head.

“A zombie?” He mocks. “Are you serious right now?”

The black haired man crosses his arms.

“Do you have a better explanation?” He asks offended.

“It’s a person,” Dan says slowly, “who needs help.”

The brunet steps from their debatably safe hiding place and goes to help the person who now is lying on the ground. Phil grabs his hand.

“Don’t,” he says frantically. “It will eat your brain.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Dan rolls his eyes shrugging Phil off and going to the person.

As Dan comes closer, the person reaches out their bloodied hand to him. Phil doesn’t leave the other’s side and gently touches Dan’s shoulder when he kneels next to the guy. The brunet nearly jumps out of his skin at the unexpected contact and glares at Phil.

“You have to run,” a whisper interrupts them.

Dan turns back to the guy. Blood is rushing from his side, soaking the dirty clothes. Dan can’t help but think he or Phil might be next.

“They’re crazy,” the guy continues breathing heavily. “They shoot anyone on sight. And the dogs…” He trails off inhaling with difficulty. “They bit off my girlfriend’s hand, her fucking hand, man,” he stops again for a couple of seconds. “Get to the road,” the guy gasps for air. “Hurry,” he breathes closing his eyes.

“Is he dead?” Phil murmurs after a couple beats of silence.

“I don’t know,” Dan answers equally quietly. “But we need to go,” he gets up and jogs a few paces before noticing that Phil’s not following; he’s frozen by the presumably dead guy.

“It’s my fault,” he says desperately when Dan approaches him. “We’re going to die because I –”

“Phil, shut up,” Dan orders getting him to his feet. “It’s no one’s fault, alright?” He asks, his hands are on Phil’s cheeks, making the man look at him. “We’re getting out of this mess together and we’re not dying.”

Phil nods fervently and Dan hugs him close to himself. However, they get only a few seconds of comfort before barking resounds in the quiet. And then they’re running again. This time there are no stops no matter how much their muscles ache or how their lungs seem to be bleeding inside. They don’t let go of one another until they finally reach the light.

The parking lot next to the main road is bright. Huge lights illuminate all the cars and the special equipment. A small crowd of people is bustling there; they’re laughing and chatting whilst sitting on the hoods of their cars, drinking coffee and tea wrapped in woolly blankets.

“Hey, two more are back,” a blonde smiley guy shouts. He’s got a black shirt that says ‘crew’ on it in big white letters.

Dan stops in the light and lets go of Phil’s hand to lean on his knees while coughing up his lungs. Phil is doing pretty much the same beside him. They both look awful. There are twigs and leafs in their hair and their clothes are torn and muddy.

“You alright, boys?” The blonde guy comes to them and waves for someone to get them hot drinks and blankets.

“They shot some guy,” Dan manages to say between deep breaths, his side feels like it’s being pierced with knives so he holds it in a futile attempt to dull the pain.

“Yeah, he died in front of us, by the river,” Phil adds nearly hyperventilating and dropping on his ass.

“It’s all part of the experience, don’t worry,” the guy laughs.

“Did you enjoy yourselves?” A girl with the same crew shirt comes smiling and carrying two water bottles for them. Another assistant puts blankets over their shoulders.

“No,” Dan shakes his head still staring wide eyed at the guy. “He literally died. I’m sure.”

“Who? Noah?” The girl asks and points to the same zombie guy eating a sandwich on a bench near where all the computers are stationed. The zombie waves at them and puts a thumbs up, smiling.

“Wow,” Phil mutters astonished as Dan stares at the guy with furrowed brows. “You got us, man,” he laughs waving back at the guy.

“So you faked everything?” Dan turns to the crew.

“Sure,” the blonde shrugs. “Everything’s totally controlled. The perimeter of the game is closed off, every participant has a tracker so we know where you are at all times,” he motions to the people sitting in front of computers in the middle of the lot. “It’s perfectly safe.”

“Was it scary?” The girl asks all excited, extending them both water bottles; Phil downs it all pretty quickly.

“Scarier than I thought it would be,” Dan admits, uncapping his bottle.

“I actually thought your guys went mental and would kill us,” Phil adds grinning. “That was the best rush of adrenalin I’ve ever gotten.”

“That’s what we do,” the guy smirks. “We’re happy you enjoyed our horror experience. Have some hot drinks and relax, you’ve survived,” he pats Dan on the back before walking off with the crew girl to monitor the computer screens.

The artificial lights are turned off as dawn starts breaking. As the sky turns a light shade of blue, the trees regain their greens and browns. People are still mingling in the parking lot, exchanging the scary and hilarious stories from the experience. Dan’s sitting on a car wrapped in two blankets all cozied up to Phil whose arms are around him.

“We should bungee jump next,” Phil suggests.

“No way in hell. You are so not getting me out of the house for the next year,” Dan protests.

“I’m sure I could talk you into that,” Phil murmurs swiping his lips across Dan’s jaw.

The brunet smiles to himself. He will make Phil work hard for that.


End file.
